


Your Hanukkah Present Was Broken Glass, But Maybe It Can Fix The Broken Fragments Of Your Happiness

by imaginaryinspiration



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, Hanukkah, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginaryinspiration/pseuds/imaginaryinspiration
Summary: It had only been what, 2, 3 days since you got here? And now, look where you were. Look what you’d done. Thank God you didn’t set the house on fire, but the hot wax was still solidifying on the floor, candles still smoking, as your blood dripped from your fingers, slowly, making red droplets on the white and blue of your mother’s shattered glass hanukiah. What were you thinking, running through the house? You’d let yourself forget for a moment who and where you were. You’d had fun for a moment. Now, look where you’d gotten yourself. You tilted your head back and tried your hardest not to let the tears fall out. So stupid! Now, she’d come back and- and he-! Clean it up. Clean it up clean it up clean it up. But it was the hanukiah! You couldn’t just pretend you didn’t know where it was! They’d know. They always knew.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Your Hanukkah Present Was Broken Glass, But Maybe It Can Fix The Broken Fragments Of Your Happiness

It had only been what, 2, 3 days since you got here? And now, look where you were. Look what you’d done.Thank God you didn’t set the house on fire, but the hot wax was still solidifying on the floor, candles still smoking, as your blood dripped from your fingers, slowly, making red droplets on the white and blue of your mother’s shattered glass hanukiah. What were you thinking, running through the house? You’d let yourself forget for a moment who and where you were. You’d had fun for a moment. Now, look where you’d gotten yourself. You tilted your head back and tried your hardest not to let the tears fall out. So stupid! Now, she’d come back and- and he-! Clean it up. Clean it up clean it up clean it up. But it was the hanukiah! You couldn’t just pretend you didn’t know where it was! They’d know. They always knew.

Why were you even here, anyway? You’d had the perfect chance but threw it away, just like you threw away every godforsaken chance to give yourself even a little bit of happiness. Wasn’t that twisted, sick? What was _wrong_ with you! Tears began to flow out faster than you could stop them. Garbage!

You could hear a key being inserted into the lock. She was home early! Oh no, ohnoohnoohnoohno. There was no way to clean it up, barely enough time to hide! You ran fast up to your room, not under the bed! Out onto the roof, through your two story window, and now you were stuck.

You could hear, distantly, her scream in anger and then loud, too loud, footsteps coming put the stairs. “Freak! Where are you! You better fucking be here or I swear to God I will do something I’ll regret!” There was silence and you knew she was checking under the bed. When she didn’t find you there, you could hear her growling in frustration. She threw the curtains open and looked outside, head swiveling and looking for you on the roof. Thank God she didn’t look up, or she would have made eye contact with you.

For once, you were thankful that your window didn’t have any glass covering it because she didn’t notice any difference (You’d never been thankful for it before, not when your teeth chattered on cold, freezing nights and you tried to huddle under your ratty blanket and fall asleep while snow blew into your room and settled on you, seeping through the fabric you were huddled under and soaking you down to the bone). She retreated from the window and walked away, calling for you again and again, sounding angrier and cussing more each time. You knew that when she didn’t find you, she would subsequently get drunk later and then if you showed up tonight, if she even saw your face or heard a peep, she’d—!

Well, you might even forget your natural skin tone with how black and purple you’d turn.

You wouldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t. Why had you returned? What was here for you, now? 

You stayed on the roof for another couple hours before hopping down, tucking and rolling as soon as you hit the ground. Yes, it hurt, but it hurt a lot less than it would have if you had ended up going inside and your mother, the hag, the witch, found you. As soon as you got to your feet again, you ran. You just took off running, you didn’t know where you were going but soon enough your feet led you to the nearest Starbucks. Good enough, at this point. You could sit down and no one could judge you because no one cared.

Of course no one cared. No one ever cared. That was just your life. No one had ever cared about you except for— except for the monsters. When you went underground, they immediately all cared about you and respected your pronouns with no questions asked and you felt _wanted_ and _important_ and, most importantly, _loved_ and _cared about._ You never felt that way with your _parents,_ the people who were supposed to care about you the most. How was that fair? Was it you? Was it something wrong with you, that made them hate you so much? Maybe you were too annoying, or lazy, or dumb, or just not good enough. Maybe there was just something inherently wrong with you. Something you were born with, you couldn’t explain. That must have been it. Maybe the monsters just didn’t see it. Maybe you’d been faking so good that now they loved and cared about the false persona you’d put up, and as soon as you showed your real self, they’d leave you.

Maybe that’s why you left, why you told Toriel you had more important places to be. Because, truly, that was a lie. There was nowhere more important than with Toriel. Maybe you left because you were scared that if you stayed, they’d catch onto your lie and then they’d hate you and leave you and leaving them before they even realized they should reject you was easier than dealing with their hate and disappointment.

But was it really you? You’d always been told it was, but the monsters certainly didn’t make you feel that way. In fact, you didn’t feel like you were lying in the Underground at all. That was possibly the first time ever you felt like your true self. Not a scared little kid who stayed out of the way and never talked, but someone who giggled and smiled and flirted with everyone else. That certainly did not feel like a lie.

So it wasn’t your fault, then. It couldn’t be, even though that thought felt so weird and wrong, yet at the same time it was such a relief. It was so freeing. It wasn’t your fault! Not your fault! You’d thought everything was your fault. Even if something was completely unrelated, it always managed to become your fault. But not anymore! Not anymore. It didn’t have to be that way anymore. (Something, maybe someone, whispers in the back of your mind that it never should’ve been that way. You want to agree, but you’re not sure if its true.) 

And you were so tired of being treated this way! Even if you deserved it or were a bad child, or even if you weren’t, you were so done! It wasn’t _fair!_ You twisted your hands anxiously and ran your fingers over a rough patch on the center of your palm. Your cut from earlier had scabbed. You tried to examine it to see if there was any glass left in it. Even though it had earned you this scab and your mother’s anger, when you had forgotten yourself for a moment before and actually had fun, that was the most happy you’d felt since the Underground. You wanted to feel that way all the time.

Should you just live free, on your own, with no one telling you what to do? Or should you go back to the only people who had ever loved you? That certainly seemed like the right choice, to give your trust to the most motherly figure you’d ever known. Yet, did you _really_ deserve it? Your mother had always told you that you deserved nothing but the worst, you were lucky she was so kind to you. But, if that was true, shouldn’t you not let your luck go to waste with the monsters? You’d always thrown away every chance you had at happiness, maybe because you were scared that it wouldn’t be everything you’d hoped for, or maybe because you thought you didn’t deserve it. But now, now you wanted to seize that chance at happiness at a better life, whether or not you deserved it! ( _You do, you deserve the whole world, you’re so much better than I ever was,_ something in the back of your mind whispers, almost regretful. You…are confused, and you try to ignore it but at the same time it urgently weighs on the back of your mind, itching for your attention.) You wanted a better life. You really did, and you were finally going to do something about it.

You gingerly set your half finished cup of water on the table and walked out the door, determined to find the woman who would, hopefully, soon, become your permanent and loving mother.


End file.
